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The Mechanic
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1666
He's a friend of a friend of the owners, a bit simple, he's dropping the owner's vehicle off after servicing, popped in for a cappuccino, sympathizing with the owner over his women troubles. He begins his own narrative:
Something like this. He got married. Suspected his wife was cheating. Hired a private detective. Proved his wife was cheating. Divorced with minimal alimony. He feels pretty smart.
He's a fucking idiot. Only an idiot would tell this tale, he tells it with no shame, he's exactly the sort of man any woman stupid enough to marry would cheat upon. It would be an easy choice: Kill yourself, or cheat on him. WYSIWYG. He's telling us this to make himself seem clever, hiring the private eye and all, but he's an idiot, and the owner sighs patiently waiting for him to finish his ordeal so he can begin his own...but the mechanic won't stop, won't spare us any detail, no matter how salacious, trivial or humiliating, he's proud to wear the horns, he's wearing the horns before he opens his mouth to make the proposal, the women (woman) having made her plans upon meeting him, he's damning himself twice with the retelling of this story but he doesn't get it, he'll be the cuckold as long as he lives and proud to tell the world, he's a fucking idiot...
Meet the Feebles
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 1569
Counterweight to a Millstone
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1570
"Beware of men in Uniform!" L is warning me, but she doesn't need to tell me, I know, I know.
Meanwhile I seem to have ended up in this small village hut, suspended from the ceiling with a seatbelt cinched tight round my arms and waist, I'm the counterweight to a millstone, across from me, arms length away (if I had use of my arms) the millstone sits lightly above the grinding stone, describing small circles...
The End of the World
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1661
It would seem the whole world has been taken hostage, and I'm the one to fix things...
A sunny day, a girl, mute and submissive beneath her armed captor, I'm quick, tired of the bullshit, I pull out my 45 and pop him. She doesn't look at me, she's in a state of perpetual cowed-ness...
Past her, now an assembly of people, a few armed terrorists patrolling them, they sit with their eyes bowed towards the grass, I make short work of the terrorists, strangely the people don't seem thankful, the terrorist boss comes out, I cap him as well, quick, efficient, but strangely nobody seems grateful...
...The terrorists, it seems they've managed to hook up some sort of doomsday device, if their demands weren't met every nuclear weapon in the world would go off, nobody thought to tell me, anyways it's too late, what's done is done and it's every man for himself...
...of course there really isn't much chance of survival, none at all really, and now I'm with a faceless, unidentifiable significant other in the basement of an old (church, building?), we're below grade, sheltered from the nuclear explosions, outside, on the high seas, there are waves and the ocean's boiling, hundreds of nuclear submarines are surfacing like whales to shoot off their missiles, battleships emptying their doomsday arsenals, then turning over to die upon the ocean waves, ....
I've decided not to give up so easily. There's a flood coming, the icecaps are melting, and, sure, the radiation will kill us all, but it's instinct to try and survive. I smash out the basement windows to allow the water easy access, then begin lashing ropes to the ceiling of the basement, the floor of the church/house, when the flood comes and carries this away it will carry us with it, who knows where to?....
Water begins pouring through the windows and filling up the cellar, the house/church begins to rise in the waves and I pull her close to me, we've got the ropes and whatever flotsam we could scavenge from the basement, the future's grim but we're going to give it a try...
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